"Well, dear boy, so here you are at last!" he exclaimed pleasantly. "I've been waiting for you."
"Much obliged to you," I retorted curtly. "What are you doing here at all?"
He shook his head at me, with an air almost of whimsical sadness.
"My dear boy—my poor, misguided boy!" he said, "why will you always blunder so infernally over your friends and your enemies?"
"I can distinguish pretty well between them, thank you," I assured him with meaning.
He shook his head again and laughed. "Indeed you can't," he answered. "Now, at the present moment, you never needed a friend so much in all your life; and yet you endeavour to insult one who stands waiting to help you. Didn't I show last night what my real feelings were in regard to this business?"
I hesitated, for I remembered how loyal he had seemed to be to Debora, and how much repugnance he had shown to what the doctor had endeavoured to do. I suppose now he saw his opportunity, for he began to push the matter home.
"My dear boy," he said eagerly, leaning forward towards me, "what earthly chance will you have of helping this girl, if you set out on a wild goose-chase through the world with her, without enough to pay even for a night's lodging? Think for one moment: she has been used to every comfort, she is a lady in every sense of the word."
"God knows that's true!" I exclaimed fervently.
"Very well, then; don't you see how mad it is?" he pleaded.